His End of Days

with pants turned backwards

the world seeming upside down

he sneers at incontinence

for he was told it would come

not the way rivers do

but more so the trickling tributary

that has no visible source of origin

wondering what role centrifugal force plays

is it the way a 33 LP turns on a turntable

repping revolutions

which involves repetitive 360 degree turns

the way the earth does

and the moon’s unyielding pull

I pull up his pull-ups

turn his pants frontward

he will never smell roses again

my smile 

sufficiently satisfying

fitting for his end of days

 

© emmett wheatfall